Being an artist in Turkey... an artist, a craftsman. Questions about who you
are constantly haunt you. Sometimes you remember, submerge in it and loose yourself in its long and narrow
passages. At times you forget about your identity crisis in racket of confusion
between time and place. Of course, when I talk about being an artist, I refer
to being a sculptor and complicate matters further.

I wish I would post an annotation below my and claim that “This
is not a sculpture. Would that relieve me a little bit? Can I take a breath?

Having mentioned “Turkey”, how can I isolate myself from its
thousands of years of history, culture and cumulation? Especially, as a
sculpturor?

Being a contemporary, modern artist is appearing as a non
deniable or easy fact. Production, re-production, presentation, freedom of
speech and ease of consumption. So what I am to do about the link between (local
but foreign) civilizations that make up our cultural heritage, our customs and traditions, our own
culture? Should I stick with easy, shallow imitation as or aspire for a higher
level of challenge?

Interestingly, a
person can follow the tracks and traces of similar conflicts in different places such as
Paris. Perhaps it is because we cannot succeed in abandoning ourselves. Fortunately
we cannot. There are “others” in Paris as well. Others providing re-production
of culture and liveliness. At least that’s my perception. And the courage! I
should seek for it at the least. My once grandfather said “All seekers could
not find it, but the finders were among the seekers” . Perhaps my efforts can
be good for moving a few stones and paving the path for the finders.